


Tethered Home

by bernie_v2k



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Flashback, young Rip Hunter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 21:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10448433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bernie_v2k/pseuds/bernie_v2k
Summary: Rip Hunter's childhood reveals what Supergirl means to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> \- Not beta'd  
> \- I do not owned these characters  
> \- I don't know much about the mythology of the Time Masters so I took some creative liberties (does that make this an AU?)

“Saddle up, buckaroos. Time to ride.” Sara Lance announced to Rip and Martin as she entered the galley, her words dripping with her usual sardonic tone.

“I beg your pardon?” the professor asked with a baffled look on his face. Rip just smirked back at her choice of words as he continued to sip his tea. He was finding himself getting used to Sara’s casual way of conducting this crew, almost amused by it. Unlike him, she was once a part of the crew, an equal, a contemporary. It never felt like she was in charge, but she took charge and everyone respected her for it and naturally fell in line.

“Where and when are we heading, Captain?” Rip finished his tea and eased the cup on to the table.

“Home, according to our linear timeline,” Sara replied. Martin tried to hide his excitement at the prospect of going home to see his wife and daughter, even if for a little while. Rip got that. Keeping track of their linear timeline, that is the timeline that measured how long they’ve been traveling, was a way of tethering everyone to home. This was apparently Sara’s idea, and certainly something Rip, who trained his whole life to being a Time Master, existing outside of any timestream, took for granted. In fact, if it wasn’t for Gideon’s regular medical examinations, Rip wouldn’t even know how old he was.

For him, he had no linear timeline, and therefore he had no home.

“So, what did Barry do this time?” Martin quipped with the glee still swimming on his face.

“Not sure. Cisco just sent out an ‘all hands on deck’ alert.” Sara shrugged. “I swear, if this is another surprise party planned by H.R. I’m outta here!”

“H.R.?” Rip asked.

“Long story.”

It seemed like everything was a long story since Rip came back. He was trying to get up to speed by reading the captain’s logs but Sara didn’t exactly keep them in an orderly fashion, or any fashion really. They were all vague entries that often started with three words: _Well, that sucked_. Then there were entries that were completely written in Arabic. When Rip got Gideon to translate them, they were just a slew of profanities and curse words.

There was one lengthy log that Rip hadn’t gotten to yet though its subject line intrigued him. It was simply titled “Invasion!” Rip felt like that one might be an interesting read one night.

The group met on the bridge and strapped in for the ride home.

“Why does it feel like I’m going back in time when I’m actually going to the future?” A calm and serious voice spoke. Rip glanced over his shoulder to see who Amaya Jiwe was talking to, but her eyes were on him and only him while no one heard her over the hum of the Waverider. Amaya was never rude to him, always the professional and he really appreciated it. But they certainly were not friends and they didn’t socialize or talk outside of team briefings. This might be the first time she addressed him since their meeting.

“You get used it,” Rip answered her. “Going to a place you’ve been to before will forever feel like the past, regardless when you were born." When Rip turned to face forward again, he caught sight of Sara looking at his exchange with Amaya with a soft smile. It reminded him of Mary, his mother at the orphanage.

Sara cloaked the ship and landed it in a field near a large hangar owned by S.T.A.R. Labs. Of course Rip recognized the building as the future Hall of Justice from his history books growing up. While this was a journey home for everyone else, this was potentially just another mission for Rip. He had knowledge of the future that no one else did (though Gideon was a Time Master’s resource that Rip felt the team wasn’t fully taking advantage of). This meant he could never be completely honest with people and in turn, they could never trust him.

“Rip and I will meet with Barry, Oliver and the others. The rest of you sit tight until we get back,” Sara ordered as Mick grunted and sat back down and Martin opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. “Martin, say hi to Lily and Clarissa for me.” And with that the professor jumped out of his seat and out of the bridge.

Rip couldn’t help but sigh in exasperation, an involuntary reaction to the time aberration that was Lily Stein. It didn’t go unnoticed by Sara who shot him a ‘don’t start’ look. He tucked his furrowed brow away and followed her off the ship.

When they got to the hangar, there were a few people milling about. They were people Rip had to pretend he was meeting for the first time, people he knew he’d fight alongside many times over, people who would leave their stamp on history as heroes, people who he’d even grow to love.

“Hey guys, listen up!” Sara announced as they approached everyone. “This is Rip Hunter. He’s from the future so he probably knows most of you. Be cool about it!” So much for discretion. Rip gave them each a nod as they introduced themselves anyway. He could feel Oliver Queen measuring his character with a firm handshake, John Diggle Sr. did the same but with a more wary look on his face. He then met Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow, and Felicity Smoak.

Finally Barry Allen approached him. He looked like a child but already Rip could see the burden that would weigh him down with each visit he would pay The Flash in the future.

“Hello, Captain Hunter. Err, I mean Mr. Hunter.” Barry’s eyes bounced back and forth between Rip and Sara. “Rip. Umm, I’m Barry Allen. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, Mr. Allen.” Rip said slowly.

“Oh wow! Future Man! I would love to pick your brain, sir.” A thin spry man pounced on him with a blinding grin, vigorously shaking his hand while hold a drumstick. Rip didn’t like it. “I’m H.R. Wells. I’m sure you’ve heard of me or have read some of my classic novels that I’ve yet to write. Gee, what if this conversation inspires a novel that will become one of your childhood favourites? Can you imagine? What’s that called? A paradox? Conundrum? Time loop? Oh, I like that: ‘Time Loop’ -- rolls off the tongue.”

Rip just slowly backed away into Sara.

“This is H.R.” she told him quietly.

Just then, a spiral of light that looked like a portal exploded near the group. This must be why they were called here. Rip instinctively raised his laser pistol and aimed it at the portal in anticipation for whatever would emerged from it. He then felt Sara place a hand on his arm to lower it. Confused, he looked at Sara.

“Yeah, we probably should’ve warned you about that,” she smirked.

“Hey guys!” Rip’s jaw dropped at the sight of a vibrant young woman with blond hair cascading on her shoulders, a blue uniform with that familiar House of El symbol emblazoned on her chest, and a red cape flapping behind her. She stood in front of everyone with kind eyes and a bright smile, fists planted at her hips.

Sara delighted in seeing Rip’s shocked face. “Rip, meet…”

“Supergirl,” he breathed out in amazement and awe. “The legendary Supergirl.”

[122 YEARS LATER]

Mary rushed to the door to stop the incessant banging of it in the middle of the night. Though it was a large house, this orphanage, she prayed the children managed to sleep soundly despite the intrusion.

“It is three in the bloody morning, you daft fool!” she cursed as soon as she opened the door and came face to face with her visitor. She was used to these visits from Time Masters at ungodly hours of the night, dropping off another one of life’s castaways, potential lieutenants for their mission of preserving the timeline.

“We discovered this one in Sector X400296, Earth, East London, United Kingdom, linear year 2139; aged six to eight. He was pinching purses,” the man informed her. “Get him climatized and we’ll assess him in a week.”

The young boy was pushed toward Mary by the Time Master as though he was being dropped off like a subpoena. The man walked off to his jumpship and Mary could not slam the door fast enough. The slew of curse words she muttered under her breath spilled out as the boy watched her carefully, with a sly smile fighting its way on his face. Mary finally looked the boy over. He looked like an urchin pulled out of a Dickinson story, truly out of his own time.

“Well, welcome to the Refuge, my child. What do I call you?” The boy remained silent, the smile having lost the battle.

“Where are your things, lad?” Still nothing. “Well, an empty-handed child is my specialty. My name is Mary and I’ll be taking care of you. We’ll have to get you washed up for bed, or maybe get you something to eat if you’re going to make it up those stairs.” She extended her hand for him to take but he just pondered it for a moment before walking past her and leading the way to the kitchen as though this was his home. Amused, she followed the boy down the corridor as he peered in every doorway before finding the one that lead to the kitchen.

It was an old-fashioned kitchen, styled like the rest of the house which was more turn of the 20th century, to invite a warm and cozy feeling for her children. Even the more modern appliances like the fridge and the food fabricator were designed to look vintage. It was her one request when she was old enough to take over the orphanage.

The boy hopped onto the chair at the table and sat politely looking at Mary with doe eyes that melted her heart. Mary went to the food fabricator and mustered up a ham and cheese sandwich, a couple of biscuits and a glass of milk. She realized she should’ve gotten him to wash his filthy hands first but his hunger simply got the better of him as he ravished the sandwich and biscuits. Who knows when he last had any sort of meal.

“Easy there, son. You don’t want to choke,” she warned him. Ignoring her, he gulped down his milk until he started coughing, the white liquid sputtering down his chin and onto his shirt.

“Aren’t you a sight,” she smiled at him as he wiped his sleeve across his face. “Seconds?”

When he was finished and finally full, Mary led him upstairs to the washroom where she drew him a bath.

“Well, you’re not getting in there with your clothes on.” The young boy began to peel off his soiled clothing dropping them into a pile on the floor. Mary wagered these articles have never seen a washing machine. She carefully helped him into the bath and began scooping water in a bath pail and drenching the poor boy.

“Here, soap up and I’ll get you a towel.” He obeyed her, playing with the soap as if this luxury was his first. Mary went to gather his discarded clothes when something fell out of the pocket of his trousers. It was a plastic figure of a man wearing a cape, the colours long faded but Mary knew them well.

“This must be over a hundred years old,” she said to herself. The boy suddenly noticed Mary had found his one prized possession and he let out a small whimper, afraid she would throw it out along with his clothes. She looked over to him as his tiny fingers gripped the edge of the tub. “Superman is one of my favourite stories from your sector,” she told him, reassuring him that no harm would come to the figure. She then handed it to him, placing the toy in his soapy hands and she left him to put away his clothes and fetch him a towel.

Before heading back to the washroom, Mary went to the library just down the hall. The library’s initial purpose was strictly for schooling and education. All the books that lived on the shelves were textbooks, history books, biographies, dictionaries, and encyclopedias in various languages. There was, however, one shelf that was left empty. It was a shelf that was dedicated to the imagination, where any child can call on any book, from any time period, from any sector.

“Computer,” Mary stated as she approached the shelf. “Access Sector X400296, Earth. The entire collection of Superman in English, please.” Volumes of books appeared featuring the superhero and it brought much nostalgia to Mary as she remembered getting lost in these stories when she was a little girl. She of course was not from that sector but when she was one of the Refuge’s previous orphans, she learned a lot from all the children that had passed through these doors, and it opened her to a wealth of adventures from all over the multiverse.

She hoped that seeing this would help the young boy open up to her. She grabbed the large book off the shelf and was about to leave but then she stopped, remembering something else she wanted to share with the boy. Another tale of heroics that changed her life. She turned back to the shelf.

“Computer. Access Sector X400296, Earth. The entire collection of _Supergirl_. English.”

Mary collected all the books and placed them in the room that would soon be his along with a clean pair of pajamas. She rushed back to the washroom where she found him in a bubbly mess with his hair styled in a mohawk and the plastic figure of Superman perched on the edge of the tub. The water was tinted a dark brown from all the filth coming off him. She washed him thoroughly and dried him just the same.

She tucked him in as he clung to his Superman. “I dug up some Superman stories if you feel like reading. If you can’t read, I’d be more than happy to read to you.” He smiled at her but still said nothing. “I also found some Supergirl books I think you might like. If it wasn’t for Supergirl, I don’t know what sort of person I would be today.” His eyes widened with intrigue as he glanced over at the daunting stack of books.

“Sleep tight, Kal-El.” Mary got up to turn off the lights and leave. As she began to close the door she heard his soft voice call out to her in a heavy Londoner accent.

“My name is Michael,” he told her. Mary held his gaze from the doorway for a moment before he continued. “And -- and I know how to read, ever since I was four. But… but I’d be very grateful if you read Supergirl to me.”

“It’s a date, Michael.”

~~~~~~~~

The week went by quickly and she learned that Michael was a very imaginative little boy. During the day he kept to himself, consuming the Superman books and drawing pictures of the Man of Steel battling his greatest foes. He also let himself get lost in the dusty history books that none of the other children touched unless they were assigned to do so. And he also seemed fascinated with text from all over the multiverse, with an obvious soft spot for his own home.

But at night, he’d stockpile jellybeans from the food fabricator and nibbled on them as Mary kept her word and read through the Adventures of Supergirl. By the end of the week, he was drawing pictures of Supergirl fighting alongside her cousin, Superman.

And so Mary had been dreading the visit from the Time Masters.

“Well?”

“He’s… an ideal candidate,” Mary said reluctantly.

“Excellent. We’ll begin the purge process.”

“Absolutely savage,” Mary fired back with disdain.

“Do you know how dangerous it would be if we allowed a Time Master to have doppelgangers in other sectors in the multiverse?” he pointed out in a low voice.  “It’s the same reason we change our names and are assigned to Earths we do not come from. These children are very important to the fabric of time. Important and unique.”

Mary kept quiet. She knew exactly what they did and what her role was in it. She took care of these children, raising them until they were fit for the Time Masters Academy. The ones that were selected had all their copies in the multiverse erased from time. And the ones that were rejected were simply placed back from where they were plucked from, unharmed and unaware, and completely insignificant.

“Madame Xavier, I suggest you start molding that boy’s educational curriculum to include Earth of Sector Z976403.” Mary nodded obediently. “And I take it you already disposed of the boy’s clothing and any of his personal effects?”

Michael’s frightened face flashed in her mind -- his worried eyes, panicked when she discovered his Superman action figure, the only tangible thing from whatever life he had on the streets, a token that got him through the hardships at such a young age. No, it was still tucked under his pillow upstairs, safe and sound.

“Yes sir,” she replied, not looking at the cloaked man in her parlour. “And his name is Michael.”

She sensed a slight flicker in the Time Master’s face. She had given herself away as someone who might be compromised by this young boy. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though. She never shied away from showing love and affection to all the children who came her way. Why would Michael be any different? She humanized these kids and the Time Masters disapproved of it.

“For now,” he responded coldly.

When the Time Master finally left, Mary heard the creaking of the floor under his small feet by the door. Michael peered through the doorway, having been eavesdropping the whole conversation.

“Mary?” he croaked out. “Is he going to kill the other me’s?”

“No, pet.” Mary strode over to Michael and knelt down in front of him.  “They are going to prevent them from existing. A small gesture, such as making their mums miss meeting their fathers by a second. These are the types of discrete changes you’ll learn to make if you choose to become a Time Master.”

“Choose? I still have a choice?” Michael was puzzled and he was right to be. No, he really didn’t have a choice as the alternative was an empty life with little hope that he’d make it to adulthood.

Mary drew him into a hug. It took a few moments before he realized he was supposed to wrap his arms around her as well. This may as well been his first hug.

“I’m so sorry, Michael.” Mary pulled out of the hug and looked at him. His face showed very little emotion. He was processing everything. In a short week, she already claimed him as one of her children. This was him claiming her as his mother.

“I’m glad I’m staying,” he finally said with a crooked smile. “And -- and I’ll return the Superman books. So’s we don’t get in trouble.”

“What about Supergirl?” Mary quirked an eye at him as he gave her his cheekiest smile.

“You haven’t finished reading them to me. We only have 52 volumes to go.”

[PRESENT DAY, probably]

“Okay, Mr. Jackson. Try it now!” Rip said over the intercom from under the bridge’s console. The Waverider’s engine growled and the stabilizers were still malfunctioning. “Turn it off! Turn it off!”

“Man, those gorillas did a number on this ship. Ugh, I can’t believe that’s an actual sentence I just said,” Jax commented back to Rip from the engine room. “I’m gonna do a full re-boot. See if she’s got some juice in her.”

Rip remained crouched under the console not expecting any change. They’ve been repairing the ship since the big battle against the gorillas. Everyone put their strengths and skills together to fight off the horde so if an idle timeship was the most downtime they’ve gotten in the last 48 hours, he would take it.

And with all the action going on, it was easy for Rip to not get too starstruck while fighting alongside Supergirl. On his Earth, his real Earth, she was a legend. Her stories brought him closer to home, but more importantly brought a sense of home closer to him through his mother Mary.

“Hello?”

Rip peered over the console to see Supergirl walking onto the bridge. It was like a dream.

“Supergirl, hello.” Rip struggled to ignore the cramp in his leg as he stood up to greet the Kryptonian. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” she started as she cleared her throat, possibly seeming more nervous than him. “I was just about to head back to my Earth, and I wanted to say how great it was to meet you, a fellow Earth-38er!” Rip chuckled at the simplification that the S.T.A.R. Labs team seemed to have assigned to his old home, unaware of all the classes and sectors that existed in the multiverse. He didn’t feel like getting into it now.

“The honour was all mine,” he said with a bow of the head. Supergirl didn’t come any closer. Her feet looked like they were having a debate with her head. “Was there anything else?”

“No! Well -- no… Well, sort of.” She was babbling and Rip was utterly charmed by her. In battle, she was magnificent, cunning, swift, strong, and confident, and Rip was inspired by her again, just as he was when he was little. “It’s just… well, you’re from the future. _My_ Earth’s future and…” She took a pause and a deep breath. “They write stories about _me_?”

The stories about Supergirl rarely highlighted anything deemed damning as insecurities and uncertainties. It humanized this goddess and made her more beautiful to Rip.

“You shouldn’t know too much about your future but… yes. My God, yes.” Supergirl beamed a radiant smile at Rip. It’s the kind of smile he had always pictured. “If it wasn’t for you,” he continued, “I don’t know what sort of person I would be today. You’re…” Rip stopped to compose himself, ducking his head a little, an impulse of his whenever he was uncomfortable. “You’re my hero.”

Supergirl was speechless and visibly touched.

“Can I hug you? You look like you don’t get hugged enough.” She laughed and leapt toward him for a hug, realizing just in time not to break his ribs. It was a great feeling. Warm, gentle, and soothing.

When she released him, it was impossible for Rip not to hide the blushing that consumed his face now. Supergirl then took a deep breath and revealed a small metal disc that she had been hiding in the palm of her hand.

“This little device that Cisco made? It lets me go between my Earth and this one. I don’t suppose… Do you want to visit your home?” Rip straightened up at the prospect of going home, even if it was 150 year in the past for him. It was something completely forbidden for a Time Master to do, but then again, he was no ordinary Time Master.

He didn’t know how long he allowed himself to drown in her eyes. Kind, welcoming eyes. The longer they held each other’s gaze, the wider both their smiles became.

“Mr. Jackson,” Rip suddenly addressed the mechanic over the intercom again, “when you get the ship fixed, please tell Captain Lance not to take off without me. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Supergirl then enthusiastically took Rip’s hand, and they went home.  
  
_END._


End file.
